Memories of Sin
by Soulstreets
Summary: A blonde angel with eyes like heaven and a crimson devil with invidia’s eyes. The beginning and the end. As the smoke rises and unwilling tears fall from his eyes, he remembers. AkuRoku. One-Shot.


_The Memories of Sin_

_

* * *

_He remembered.

A blonde angel with eyes like heaven and a crimson devil with invidia's eyes. The beginning and the end. As the smoke rises and unwilling tears fall from his eyes, he remembers.

* * *

They drowned her. It was raining that day, and purple clouds filled the sky, while thunder and lightning dance across the heavens. She didn't defend herself, didn't cry or scream or said that it was wrong, wrong, it was so wrong but she didn't say a word when they carried her to the cliff above the lake, when they bound her to the earth with rope and rocks. She didn't say a word while blonde changed to scarlet and heaven's blue changed to the purple of the clouds.

'_Your time will come, sinner.'_

He shouldn't have been close enough to hear those words, but her voice screamed them inside his head, and he saw her fall from the edge, as scarlet and superbia made way for angel hair and a last glance from those blue blue eyes.

She was the first, but she wasn't the last.

And she took with her the memories of a quiet summer day when there were no angels or devils, when she was just the girl and he the boy and the devil didn't exist. He remembered the smell of apples.

'_Hey Namine?'_

'_Yes Roxas?'_

'_What do you see in your dreams?'_

'_Nothing but the sky falling down.'_

_

* * *

_Through the flames, he can make out the grin that isn't there while jade eyes stare at him. The tears make him remember.

* * *

His hands were stained with blood when he woke up, and he hears the music from the bard in his head, but it fades like the blood as the devil talks to him. The young man that they called the son of Acedia, who cared for nothing but music, was nowhere to be found. Hours had passed before he gets the news. They found him, hanging in the church from the beams, hanging like the fool from a game of fortune. The village became quiet when the melodies like water were gone. He isn't sure anymore, but devils can't enter the house of God, so it wasn't his fault.

He was the second, and in his blue eyes there is loss for a little angel girl and betrayal for the boy that wasn't an angel, and it still. Wouldn't. Stop.

And he took with him the memories of a winter night when the devil appeared amidst dancing and music and feasting. He remembered the sound of a sitar near water.

'_Hey Demyx?'_

'_Yes Roxas?'_

'_What do you hear between the music?'_

'_Nothing but the coming of the fool and the devil.'_

_

* * *

_They didn't bind his hands, and against all promises he reaches out without hope, without belief. The devil has black tears on his face, and he can't remember if they were always there. The devil's eyes reflect insanity. The flames are climbing higher as he remembers.

* * *

There's a cottage on the edge of town, and a young man whose hair is spun of liquid silver lives there. He's never been inside that cottage, has never even been near it, but he knows that the sheets of the bed are made of black silk. He's only seen the silver haired man twice, but his mind shows him how silver looks on black, and though he's convinced that they've never spoken, he knows how to make him scream and how his lust filled gasps sound.

He was there before blonde and scarlet left, after crimson came, when it started and when it ended.

And he took with him memories of blonde turning scarlet, of blond turning auburn in the light of the rising sun. He remembered the touch of skin on skin.

'_Hey Riku?'_

'_Yes Sora?'_

'_What do you feel in the middle of the night?'_

'_Nothing but knowledge that the morning will come for all of us.'_

_

* * *

_The smoke blinds his eyes, the fire deafens his ears, but the devil stays. Fingers with nails that are too long and sharp wipe the tears from his face as crimson bleeds into his vision everywhere he looks. Unheard words are whispered in his ears as he remembers.

* * *

_Inama nishuf al a sadarr, Eann zaratha zarati  
Kali bakka a tishuf ahatt, Al hudad alman dali_

_Inama nushif, Al asir hiy ayish  
Lia-anni, Zaratha zarati_

She was a foreigner from a country that was destroyed years ago, a princess from a city of ruins. Wherever she went, there was the fluttering of silk shawls, and the sound of gold and silver was covered by the sadness of the song she sang. She looked at him once, and told him that he had her eyes. Before he could ask who the woman from the song was, she was silent forevermore. Her tongue was cut and she was left to die alone, her hands still holding the gold she took, black shawls moving in the wind that wasn't there, on the sound of the golden bells of Avarice.

She was the third, and the gold in her hands was red from blood, her eyes filled with sin, the perpetual traveler that could only be stopped by death.

And she took with her the memories of the lament for jade eyes and flowers, in a language that was long dead, in a dance of grief. He remembered the reflection of gold in the moonlight.

'_Hey Yuffie?'_

'_Yes Roxas?'_

'_What do you pray for when the dance begins?'_

'_Nothing but the peace that shall not come.'_

_

* * *

_As the fire brings him memories, he screams, his lungs filled with the smoke of the flames. Claws as sharp as razors draw tears of blood. He still remembers.

* * *

She was movement and lightning, wicked green eyes and the posture of a nymph. In time, little details stood out, like how he only saw her in the evening, the skin as pale as pearls, the eyes that could see in the darkest of places, her lips the color of rubies, how her nails looked like glass. She walked like a queen and talked like a peasant, this lady of lightning. When she didn't appear for days, he went to her house, built of rocks with drapes always closed. When he opened the door, the wind caused dust to fly in every direction, and for a moment, he was blinded. On the floor he saw a necklace of pearls and emeralds, a long string that was cut, and the jewels spilled from his hands as he picked it up. It was one of her favorites, that she always wore when she went out.

She was the fourth, and no one but him grieved for her, the lady of pearls and emeralds, and a hunger for blood.

And she took with her the memories conversations by candlelight, about life and death and sin, and bemused eyes that seemed to know more than she told him.

'_Hey Larxene?'_

'_Yes Roxas?'_

'_What do you taste when you sin?'_

'_Nothing but pure life.'_

_

* * *

_His vision is fading, and the sound of burning wood and flesh is far away. In the dark, only soft touches are left. Still, he remembers.

* * *

He looked in the mirror, and blue eyes, blue blue like hers, stare back at him, filled with anger. Empty laughter rings throughout the cold halls, following him, encouraging him. When he stopped in front of the closed doors, he waited, waited for a sign, for anything. It does not come. No sudden beams of light, no visions in the dark. The doors open without being touched, and all he does is stand there and stare at his judges. They only see those blue eyes filled with rage, at them, at the world, at himself. Just like his sister, he stayed silent. He did nothing when they dragged him away, when they beat and cut him, when they lit their torches. Nobody but him saw that the wood was burning before the torches. He laughed at them, silently, and one by one they ran, until only ghosts and demons were left.

A girl with his blue blue eyes, or maybe he took hers, her hand entwined with the hand of a girl with scarlet hair and the eyes of superbia. A young man with a sitar in his hands, playing for the dead and the undead. A young foreign woman, little more than a girl, with black shawls moving around her, followed by the sound of golden bells. A woman with eyes like emeralds and ruby lips, who only smiled at him, revealing teeth too sharp. A boy that stole his eyes, only desiring the lover he will never see again, a boy that that stole his nights and only exists in clouded memories and his own mind. The devil with those jealous eyes and ebony tears etched on his face.

He was the last, the end, the final sinner of sins in a row of seven.

And he took with him the memories of hair the color of blood and evergreen eyes.

* * *

He felt. Kisses like cold fire, cooling him. With his last strength, he smiles against the lips of the devil, whispering words that seal his fate.

* * *

'_Do not forgive me, for I have sinned.'_

_

* * *

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_Only read this if you want the clinical explanations that'll ruin the story and the plot. As far as there was one._

_Good gods, I finally finished it! This whole thing started when I drew Roxas burning alive, which was followed by a conversation with a friend where I tried to find a reason as to why Roxas was being burned alive. It ended up with a one-shot where I slaved over, fitting in every single one of those seven sins. For those that didn't get it (don't worry, I don't think anyone besides me got it), here's the short list of characters with their sins and whatnot._

_Namine/Kairi - Pride - Eyes of superbia referring to the colour purple.  
Demyx - Sloth - The son of Acedia.  
Riku and at the same time Sora, who lives inside of Roxas - Lust. Sora only appeared long after the sun went down and disappeared again when the sun came up.  
Yuffie - Greed - Avarice's bells. For the song, see below.  
Larxene - Gluttony. Less obvious, and I had to think about that one for a while. After some reading (aka, wikipedia) I found out it wasn't just eating too much, but for instance also... being picky, to say it bluntly. I think only drinking blood counts as picky enough._

_And our final two! Axel, who plays the devil in this story, represented Envy, as demonstrated with 'invidia's eyes', while Roxas was Wrath._

_As for Yuffie's song, which she sings for Aeris, it's called 'Inama Nushif'. Here are the translated lyrics :_

_Forever her voice sings, through the ages eternally bound  
Sacrifice is her gift, one that cannot be equaled_

_She is eternal, no malice can touch  
Singular and ageless, perpetually bound_

_That's it people, it's a wrap, we're done, finished, finito, the show's over, let me know what you think (but only if you feel like it)._

_-May.  
_


End file.
